A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 17 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That their lover’s once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer sexy, just another distraction in your busy life.
Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes.
this fucks me up every single time
I never expected this to be my most popular poem out of the hundreds I’ve written. I was extremely bitter and sad when I wrote this and I left out the most beautiful part of that class.
After my teacher introduced us to this theory, she asked us, “is love a feeling? Or is it a choice?” We were all a bunch of teenagers. Naturally we said it was a feeling. She said that if we clung to that belief, we’d never have a lasting relationship of any sort.
She made us interview a dozen adults who were or had been married and we asked them about their marriages and why it lasted or why it failed. At the end, I asked every single person if love was an emotion or a choice.
Everybody said that it was a choice. It was a conscious commitment. It was something you choose to make work every day with a person who has chosen the same thing. They all said that at one point in their marriage, the “feeling of love” had vanished or faded and they weren’t happy. They said feelings are always changing and you cannot build something that will last on such a shaky foundation.
The married ones said that when things were bad, they chose to open the communication, chose to identify what broke and how to fix it, and chose to recreate something worth falling in love with.
The divorced ones said they chose to walk away.
Ever since that class, since that project, I never looked at relationships the same way. I understood why arranged marriages were successful. I discovered the difference in feelings and commitments. I’ve never gone for the person who makes my heart flutter or my head spin. I’ve chosen the people who were committed to choosing me, dedicated to finding something to adore even on the ugliest days.
I no longer fear the day someone who swore I was their universe can no longer see the stars in my eyes as long as they still choose to look until they find them again.
This is so fucking important and I think it’s something I needed right now
You’re a witch. There’s never been a time when witches were cuddly and embraced by their people, my dear. Every culture has had walkers-between and that frightens people. We’re wild, with fire in our blood, wine in our bellies and the moon in our souls. We’re the frightening people who talk to spirits in the woods.
Aaaa he’s turning a duller color… I hope he’s alright
So apparently chicken nugget is a spicebush swallowtail and they turn yellow before they pupate.
He was making little silk things everywhere
Bruh this caterpie is going to evolve to metapod today my boy isn’t messing around
update hes entirely yellow now
i made him a tube room
hes crawlin all over the place checking it out
its happening
False alarm he moved a bit This guy
??? caterpie doesnt evolve into kakuna
whats he doing
its happening part 2 For Real This Time
chicken nugget using those advanced tactics balancing my man doesnt do anything halfway
i put on some tunez for him so he can get into the metamorphazone
sorry for keeping you all in suspense but chicken nugget is doing fine and he has a cool hat now
My family didn’t have a lot of money, so right after I graduated from high school, I got a job waiting tables to help pay for Community College. I was lucky enough to get a job as a server at the local Houlihan’s and it was pretty good money for young college kid. In the back there were these two Mexican dishwashers who were also joking around and laughing. They spoke very broken English, but were able to communicate. Every time they would see me they greeted me with a Spanish sounding version of my name. I didn’t really understand it, but they always laughed and seemed genuinely happy to see me so I laughed along too.
After several months working there one of the cooks working the line, who always had a front row seat to this suddenly called me over. I remember this guy was always stoic and we weren’t really friends, but we weren’t on bad terms either. I always did my job, and tried to keep as much shit from angry customers from coming back to the kitchen, which is probably why he took pity on me. He said, “Do you know what they are calling you?” I shook my head no. I had no idea.
“It is a joke on your name. It basically means take out and suck your dick.” I thanked him profusely and after that I tried to go even more out of my way to help that guy. At the same time a smouldering fire began to rage and burn in my heart. I was humiliated and angry, but I didn’t say anything to them. I just smiled and played the game.
I immediately enrolled in Spanish classes the next semester. I found Spanish speaking students to hang out with. Soon my entire group of friends was Spanish speaking. By this time I had moved on from that restaurant and left those two dishwashers behind, but they were not forgotten. After several more semesters I started spending my summer breaks volunteering in South America, and finally as I graduated from University with a degree in Engineering I won an internship to work in Spain only because I had become so good at speaking Spanish. It was an amazing three months, but all good things come to an end and I had return home.
After I came back home I was exhausted, but my friend forced me to go to a birthday party. By coincidence I ended up meeting an amazing Hispanic woman there who was going to be my future wife. Later that night we all went to a club and as we were dancing and having a good time I suddenly felt someone tapping me on the shoulder. I turned around and standing there is Oscar, one of the dish washers.
“Take out your dick and suck it!” He said in Spanish.
Without missing a beat I replied in perfect Spanish, “Your sister already did that for me last night!”
His eyes got really big and then we both burst into laughter and hugged. The petty dream I originally had to get back at him had finally been fulfilled, but now 5 years later my heart was suddenly filled with gratitude. I had long since realized that he had unknowingly launched me into an amazing journey where I travelled the world, met some amazing people, fell in love with a new culture and had just met my future wife. So fuck you Oscar and thanks again.
If you think art is easy or a lazy escape route through college then fuck you, art is degrading, it fucks with your self worth, for every 100 paintings you do, 99 of them will be shit - you just do it and hope it looks good. When you can’t project an idea from your head onto paper the way you want it, it is heart breaking and so fucking frustrating, don’t tell me art is easy because you need to be very head strong to cope with constantly under achieving in something you love
